


Hunger (Cleavetale one-shot, version 1)

by CorruptedNightshade



Series: Cleavetale stuff [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cleavetale (Undertale), Breaking the Fourth Wall, Can listen to music while reading, Cannibalism, Cleavetale Papyrus (Undertale), Cleavetale Sans (Undertale), Cleavetale Snowdrake (Undertale), Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), No Romance, No Sex, No Smut, One Shot, Snowdin (Undertale), Snowy - Freeform, Tags Contain Spoilers, The Underground (Undertale), uses work skin, written while listening to music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorruptedNightshade/pseuds/CorruptedNightshade
Summary: [THIS ONE-SHOT WAS WRITTEN IN A WAY THAT IT CAN BE READ WITHOUT READING/KNOWING MUCH OF CLEAVETALE AND MAYBE EVEN WITHOUT UNDERTALE KNOWLEDGE. :3]Sans, a skeleton monster in the underground, lives with his little brother, Papyrus. Food is scarce, very scarce; so much so that the brothers must resort to drastic and frowned upon ways of obtaining food.  To make matters worse, a disease plagues the place. The disease, known as "The Hunger",  makes people grown hungry faster and if they do not eat they begin to become feral and may turn on anyone, including family.  Down in the underground, it is eat or be eaten. Sans is already bad off enough, having had received multiple blows to the head to give him a gaping hole. He has to keep himself and his brother fed to in turn keep one another safe. Getting food on the other hand is not an easy nor safe task. One must travel through the no longer cheery caverns to see if the traps have caught something today...
Series: Cleavetale stuff [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927309
Kudos: 4





	Hunger (Cleavetale one-shot, version 1)

**Author's Note:**

> I planned to add more, but I do not have much free time. So I will be adding more to this one-shot later and posting it as a separate one in case people do not want to read the more described out one. :)
> 
> The music notes are the links to some of the songs I was listening to while writing. The places they are placed though are not the order I listened to them though-- they are just placed in the story where I think I like them put. I do not own these songs nor were they made for my AU.
> 
> Cleavetale is a cross of the AU Horrortale, by sour-apple-studios, and the AU Axetale, by thebananahasspoken/bananafrappe, that i decided to make.

**Hunger**

[ ♪ ](https://youtu.be/EYBK67h8vX0)

"SANS, YOU NEED TO EAT. YOUR TALKING TO YOURSELF IS BECOMING MORE FREQUENT AGAIN, AND YOU ARE DOING THAT EYE SOCKET TUGGING THING A LOT. YOU SHOULD HAVE THE LAST BIT OF THE PREVIOUS HUNT'S KILL."

His brother's loud- too high pitched- and scratchy voice rang in his broken skull. It made him groan and lean more into the beaten stained couch.

He knows that even though Papyrus is just as hungry as him, if not more from his activeness, he shares his own habit of showing concern for his family more than himself. It bugs him to hell and back, and he would normally comment on his displeasure on it despite doing so makes him a hypocrite, but this time he is just not in the mood. His head hurts all the time- and now his soul is not so nicely joining in-, he couldn't sleep last night, his depression is kicking him in the pelvis- yet again-, AND then there is the biggest reason of all: if he does not keep his hunger in check, the disease dubbed, non creatively, "The Hunger" would make him much less stable of a skeleton than he already is. He knows, with regret, what happens when he gets like that, and he is not running the risk of- ...He can not even think about it.

"fine, fine, papyrus. i'll eat, but on the condition that 'm huntin' today and you'll be the first to eat it. you need food, too, bro."

A sigh comes from the taller skeleton hunched within the doorway of the kitchen- not a breath of air, but the literal saying of the word.

"...FINE. BUT DON'T OVER EXERT YOURSELF. I DO NOT WANT YOU PASSING OUT IN THE SNOW, COVERED IN BLOOD, AGAIN!"

Right. There was one time when it happened that he nearly caused Paps to lose one of his legs to the dog guards. He knows his brother did not mean that memory specifically and was mentioning it for the spoken section of worry, but it still has his mind thinking on it for later.

"k, k. i won't."

"AND THAT MEANS CONSUME THE FOOD BEFORE, NOT AFTER, THE HUNT, SANS! THE TERRIFYING PAPYRUS WILL NOT HAVE HIS OWN DUST AND MAGIC WORKING ON A EMPTY SOUL!" Papyrus screeched more, the last bit managing to rise in volume and pitch exponentially. Absolutely damn lovely for a headache.

"ok. i will."

"GOOD."

With a slight groan and small creak of bone, he departs from sweet relaxation on the couch to forceful walking to the kitchen, passing his brother who keeps his gaze on him the whole trip through the shadowy rooms; Papyrus was going to make sure he was going to indeed eat the food. 

"...you don't haveta watch me, y'know."

"I KNOW. I AM JUST MAKING SURE."

He rolls his big red singular eyelight as he opens the slightly rusted fridge to get it, ignoring the tingling sensation on his back.

Only when he finishes swallowing the cold grey dust and black slop slushie of an old rabbit neighbor, who was now small enough to fit in a coffin of a Tupperware, did Paps nod and leave him to head upstairs to his room. He was either going to work on some form of a new trap idea or reminisce about the old days just like everyone else down here. 

There just is not much to do, as one can tell; Reminisce, cry, sleep, eat, talk, explore (a very limited range), plan, and of course the current objective of hunting.

Lightly scratching at his head, he sighs, _"shitty day today...as always."_

The powdery bitter-sour taste is still lingering on his nonexistent tongue as he goes outside. 

[ ♪ ](https://youtu.be/Ve3pcEUncio)

He has to pull his worn jacket closer around himself to help keep the biting cold away. Even though he is becoming even more used to it at this point, it still is bothersome. Hell, he didn't only just pull the hood up on this thing too to keep himself warm; Snow falling in the hole in his head was a worse nuisance, and it was worth it even with having to deal with the fur on the trim tickling the wound. It is so cold down here in the caverns that even the running water of the river that goes through Snowdin and Waterfalls isn't "running" anymore- more like an ice cube collection site for the past however many years he can not remember at the moment- and the snow's crunch is louder than normal due to it no longer being the usual fluffy powder everyone used to know. 

It's enough to chill even a skeleton down to the bones.

Okay, so maybe he likes the occasional puns...

Moving onto the other kind of chill he feels right now, he turns his thoughts from comfy freeform to focused and driven partly by instinct. While traveling in the dim, death scented underground, someone can not afford the luxury of relaxation. Most soul power goes to thinking about what's watching him from the trees, who are hiding in the ruins of the town, will there be any humans or monsters (maybe even the rare animal) in the traps today, and so forth. Even though Grillby will not attack him because of a deal- plus the extinguished fire elemental keeps around the forest by the ruins of his old restaurant-, there are still the dog guards to deal with.

Those damned dogs.

He would love to have one more of them as the catch of the week-- Strewn in a pan and grilled over a fire. Just thinking about it makes him salivate and dribble the black Hunger down his mandible, his soul shivering- He shakes his head.

 _"focus, sans..."_ he whispered to himself, barely audible.

Focus and not forget.

Food time, not revenge time.

'Crunch, crunch, crunch' was about the only noise out loud after that little slip-up.

Everything becomes tenser once someone leaves the shambling ruins of Snowdin town, with their broken windows and dark rooms, and enters the thick forests of Snowy. The evergreen trees, who always gave the Underground a bit of a surface world look, were stripped of their leaves and bark by desperate enough monsters long ago. The wood's creaking from age could sometimes prove distracting-- Any noise could turn out as a sign of one of the twisted monsters in the forest. The only reason the icy snow was left untouched and not filling their souls was due to its toxicity. 

He is lucky the traps are mostly close together in clusters so he does not have to stick around here any longer than he could have to. Normally he'd sneak in a few shortcuts-- step into the darkness of the void for a moment then step out where he wanted or at least closer-- to make it even quicker, but Papyrus's warning is still stuck high pitched in his skull.

He wants to half sigh at that, half not. 

He's especially indecisive of that when a thunk-- how so predictable-- sounds out, making his head swivel to the right where it came from. All in that second, he already has his handy dandy cleaver summoned, through magic, in his left hand while his eyelight bounces around looking for the source.

"who's there? show yourself, b u d d y."

Nothing there; Not there; Nada. Wait-

...

It was just a fallen branch. Idiot. By Asgore, he's too damn tense today. Paps is right that he needs food...His mind is pestering him too much again and that not even a mouthful of the rabbit was not enough. At least he is not seeing things this time...

Yet he keeps up his guard. Just because this was a false alarm does not mean the next one will be... 

He's never going to be the same if he ever gets out of this place. They, for one, do not have to watch out for blue snow traps-- snow pits that act like quicksand but slow-- on the surface world when traveling, at least that he knows of...

After what seemed like an hour of checking trap after trap, but was only minutes, all of them so far were empty. Not a single previously living creature in any of their own contraptions. Even the few that he came across that belonged to others were people free. It made him wanna curse, but there is still hope in the last one: the giant bear trap somewhat near the purple door to the Ruins could still have something in it.

His footsteps may be a bit louder from frustration as he walks, but that is not something he's focused on at the moment. His quicker pace does carry him to the location sooner-- He's saving the last few shortcuts he can probably pull for the trip back home. 

The thing with the bear trap is that he does not have to be too close to its placement to tell if it has gone off or not; From a distance, it is obvious if the rusted metal is no longer hidden under the snow and instead shut tight. So when he's finally so many feet from it that it is in his enhanced eyesight's range, he gets his answer.

And he does not like it.

Not one **bit**. 

**"damn it!"** he yells while kicking some snow towards the direction of the unseen trap, losing his temper finally. 

**Nothing** was going well today. Not like it ever does down in this shithole-

He takes in a long breath, dragging a hand down his good side of his face and letting it out in mumbled curse words under his tingly breath.

No food.

No food equals them having to wait longer which in turn equals more pain and risk to themselves.

Paps is going to be hungry and aching longer...

...What if they do not find food later and he worsens again and ends up taking another bite out of Papyrus because he became too hungry? Just like the time when he woke up from his coma and experienced the Hunger for the first time; That one dreaded incident, of many lead-heavy on his shoulders, he thought back on this morning.

He shakes his head. He is not going to fucking allow that. He'll keep distance between him and his bro like usual when they end up too bad and he-

[ ♪ ](https://youtu.be/ygG1fy_YtA4)

-is too focused. 

_While traveling in the dim, death scented underground, someone can not afford the luxury of relaxation._

_Any noise could turn out as a sign of one of the twisted monsters in the forest._

If he had not been making so much noise because he let his 'hangry' mood get out of check he would have been able to sooner pick up the sound of a Snowdrake flying at him from behind, sharp talons bared. The curved claws manage to tear through the faded jacket and old-blood stained sweater and scrape his ribs deep enough to make Hunger-tainted goey dust and, unlike normal monsters, red DeTermination well up from the marks. The blow and attempted dodge sends him meeting the snow on the ground with a pained, 

**"fucking-!"**

The female, from what he can tell by the coloration without giving a crap about it, lunges at him again not a second later, this time choosing to use her beak filled with just as sharp teeth to snap at him.

He pushes himself up with a huff and spin, skidding backward and messing up the icy powder more, while his never un-summoned bone cleaver is switched in a snap for the spine axe in the middle of the action.

He spits out, **"you’re gonna regret that, overgrown chicken."**

A response to him from the feral bird in the form of coherent words is not expected, but something else would be nice… All it takes is a swing of the arm to use the advantage of having a bit more distance between him and the fellow monster to strike her first without getting as readily caught in her range. Feathers are sent flying with black and dust while a different type of screech comes from her mouth. He can’t help but chuckle at the noise, it sending an entertained shiver through his discolored bones. 

Now that is what he needed to scratch the itch a little from earlier kept deep inside him. 

The she-Snowdrake does not know just how much danger she is in nor can she fully understand just how bad she’s been injured in her mental state. 

Another attempt is pulled by her without hesitation to try and bring him down for a meal, but the only luck she has had already dried up horribly the moment she failed to make the first strike a killing blow. 

“how boutchya do me a favor, snack, an’ die quick? got a bro to feed.”

He jumps out of the way. He lifts his arm quickly. His magic weapon comes down in another heavy swish, pushing air out of the way-- a terrifying noise. 

...The attack made its target. Her body ultimately goes falling to the ground. A ‘thud’ breaks the momentary silence. 

The monsters do not call him The Executioner of Snowy for nothing. A swift ending to a fight is what he can bring.

**“chehhehheh!”**

He chuckles for some time but then sighs followed by a huff.

_“ya hit me good...”_

Holding his sweater with one hand and pulling the cloth forward to apply at least some pressure on the back of his searing ribs, he uses the other to lift the big feathered body up and over his shoulder with his brute strength. 

The traps may have caught nothing, but now they have this. Not as long-lasting as a physical being, but will do. 

Paps though will not be happy about how long of a shortcut he is about to pull to get himself home quicker. Not good to be walking around wounded in a piranha tank. That is asking to get chomped on. 

The surroundings go from a horror story forest to pitch-black emptiness then finally home sweet run-down home in a single footstep. By his great luck, Papyrus just happened to have taken the final step off the staircase across the room. The greeting he gets is as loud as always.

[ ♪ ](https://youtu.be/skj3t42jmhk)

“SANS! I SEE YOU OBTAINED ONE OF THE SNOWDRAKES- WAIT.”

Papyrus takes two sniffs of the air after having only walked two large footsteps and, from his position still many feet from his brother, he catches a whiff of a certain smell coming from him while he holds his head and leans against the door. 

He knows his brother knows because of the unmistakable scent of DT and their predatory sense of smell. It is confirmed right after the look of realization comes across the taller skeleton’s face.

“YOU GOT INJURED, BROTHER!? DO NOT TELL ME ALSO THAT THE SHORTCUT WAS A LONG DISTANCED ONE!? GIVE THE BODY OVER. YOU ARE HAVING THE FIRST BITES-” Papyrus screeched as he went over to him the rest of the way.

He, of course, retorted, “no, bro. ya promised you would eat first,” when taking a step back.

“SIGH. ...FINE.”

He finally allows Papyrus to take the body, but instead of him just doing that, the 7’8” younger skeleton lifts him, the 5’3” older skeleton, right up like a child. He literally carries him over to the table and sets him down in a chair, making him hiss from his back grazing some on the wood.

“BUT ON THE NEW CONDITION THAT YOU EAT AT THE SAME TIME! YOU MAY NO LONGER HAVE ONLY JUST ONE HEALTH POINT, HAVE DETERMINATION, AND HAVE THE HUNGER, BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU NEED TO STAND AROUND WITH A WOUND!”

Papyrus took the body with him to the kitchen, leaving no room to argue. He grumbled unhappily. 

At least Paps will be eating…

He can hear as his brother prepares the meal of ‘chicken’ in the kitchen. Usually, bodies would be prepared in the shed by him then delivered to Papyrus, but not this time. Not when his brother needs food and is worried about his wounds even though it is just a scratch. A slightly deep scratch… 

Okay, that burns. And his head is **pounding** from the shortcut.

_“i bet you’re findin’ this all interesting. listenin’ to or watchin’ all that is happening in our life like some damn horror story bein’ written down, entertaining yourself cause you fucking have nothin’ else to do right now…”_

“YOU REALLY DO NEED TO EAT! YOU ARE TALKING TO 'NOBODY' AGAIN, BROTHER!”

He sighs, gently tugging the rim of his eyesocket to ground himself before he loses it more.

“mk.”

Smiles manage to widen a tad bit as Papyrus comes in a minute later with two bowls of stripped meat, not even cooked due to the rush. Food is food and with the Hunger, it's not like they are going to get sick...er.

Now, he wonders if the readers will get to see what happens next or not. Who knows, not him, not Papyrus. He also wonders if they want to see if they can not. 

_“chehheh.”_

…

…

“BROTHER, EAT. NOT BE CHORTLING OVER WHATEVER DARK JOKE OR PUN YOU ARE THINKING IN YOUR SOUL. ALSO, YOU NEED TO HELP ME CLEAN UP THE CARPET ONCE YOU ARE HEALED UP. YOU AND THE SNOWDRAKE GOT DISEASE ON IT…!"

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time using HTML and work skin to use fonts. It took me a while to figure out how to format dialogue in the middle of a sentence without formating the whole sentence, and also how to make a sentence both font formatted and bold/italic.   
> I hope I did well at it atleast. "":3 
> 
> also, as said, this is just version 1. I will write more when I can and post it as version 2.


End file.
